"Xander..." Anya whined.

The boy in question sighed. "For the last time, I am not having sex with Spike here!"

"Aaah!!" Spike yelled in frustration, jumping out of his usual chair and running up the stairs. The last thing he heard as he slammed the door behind him was Anya. "Okay, he's gone--now can we have sex?"

The vampire roamed the streets for hours, unable to return home, and unwilling to pathetically ask for help. Not wanting to wander the whole night away, however, he was finally forced to seek shelter. Checking the nearest street sign, he found himself closest to Willow's house.

He made his way to the house quickly, and went around to the back to attract less attention. Relieved to see Willow's light still on, he was soon standing on the balcony, tapping lightly on the glass doors. The curtains were partly open, and he could see Willow sitting on the bed.

Willow looked up from her toenails, grabbing her squirt bottle of Holy water before asking who was there. When she heard Spike's voice, and saw a glimipse of bleached white hair through a gap in the curtains, she breathed a sigh of relief and invited him in, going back to painting her toenails. She would have gotten up to open the doors for him, but she didn't want to smear the polish.

Spike let himself in, going over to sit next to her on the bed. "What's going on, ducks?" he asked after a few minutes.

"We're having a slumber party," she replied, finishing the last toe and recapping the nail polish.

"We?" Spike asked, glancing around with a slight frown. If the Slayer was there, he might as well leave.

"Me and Miss Kitty," Willow explained, gesturing toward the kitten sleeping peacefully on one of the pillows. The feline in question opened her green eyes, staring balefully at them at the sound of her name before yawning widely and going back to sleep. "Want to join us?" the witch asked.

"Sure, don't have anywhere else to go," Spike replied.

Willow grinned. "Great. Take off your shoes."

"Do what?"

"Take off your shoes. I'm going to paint your toenails."

He frowned. "You'll do no such thing."

"What are you gonna do, go back to Xander's?" she asked innocently, her green eyes flashing mischeviously. "This is what girls do at slumber parties," she said, wiggling her own painted toenails at him.

Spike gave up. "Fine," he sighed, leaning down to pull off his shoes and socks.

Half an hour later, he'd had a full pedicure. "Willow, you painted them lavender," he said, staring down at his feet in horror.

"Actually, its 'Tropical Sunrise'," she corrected him, taking his hand and beginning to file his nails. "Don't worry, none of the other vampires will know. Just wear socks," she teased him.

"If my fingernails end up the same color..." he threatened, glaring at her.

She giggled. "What, you'll lick me to death?" she said. "That might be kind of fun, but I'll be good," she promised. "I'll do a nice respectable color." Pulling out a bottle of black polish, she showed it to him.

"That's better," he grumbled. "So what do we do after this?" he asked, watching as she carefully painted a nail, the tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

"After this we watch a movie and break into my parent's liquor cabinet," she informed him.

His eyes lit up as his look changed to one of adoration. "We get to drink? I'd break into a chorus of "The Wind Beneath My Wings," but I think it'd be greatly under appreciated."

Willow giggled. "You're right. Please don't sing."

Spike pouted. "Hey, I'm good," he protested, frowning when she snorted in laughter. Scrambling off the bed, he got down on one knee in front of her.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero," he warbled at the top of his lungs.

Willow's eyes widened in momentary shock before she came to her senses, propelling herself off the bed and onto Spike's lap, using both hands to cover his mouth.

Seconds later, she ripped them away. "Eew!! Spike, you licked me!!"

He waggled his eyebrows lasvisciously at her, smiling when she started giggling and smacked his shoulder. "You're a nut," she teased him.

"I really am, aren't I?" he said, picking her up and carrying her into the living room.

With a flourish, he set her down on the couch, then headed towards the liquor cabinet. "I'll pour while you pick a movie. And no chick movies," he added, sending an accusitory glare towards the cabinet where Willow kept her copies of When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, and You've Got Mail.

"You didn't mind them last time," she grumbled.

"Luv, last time I was being nice. You'd just broken up with Witchy Girl, and I figured you deserved the rigth to watch Meg Ryan do something totally impossible and fall for Billy Crystal."

"I saw you crying," she teased him.

"I got margarita salt in my eye."

Willow snorted. "Right. Okay, fine, we'll watch a comedy," she sighed. "Spaceballs, The Princess Bride, or There's Something About Mary?" she asked, already pulling out the well-worn copy of the one she knew he would pick.

"The Princess Bride," he answered automatically, while mixing their drinks. When he was done, he returned to the couch and sat down, smiling in delight when Willow curled up next to him and magicked a bowl of popcorn into his lap.

After a few minutes, he looked down at her. "Why aren't we dating?" he asked out of the blue.

She thought a minute, then looked up at him, her green eyes serious. "Because you have too many issues right now," she said seriously.

"I don't have issues, luv," Spike scoffed, frowning at her. "Do I?" he asked.

She gave him a half-hearted grin. "You spent more than a century with an insane vampiress, lost her when your Sire lost his soul for the second time, were implanted with a chip that made it impossible to follow your basic nature, almost married a woman who usually spends her time trying to kill you, and you're a terrible driver." She arched an eyebrow at him. "You know, I was wrong. You *don't* have any issues," she said sarcastically.

He sat there next to her, his mouth open in shock. "I am NOT a bad driver."

Willow laughed. "Spike, they had to raise taxes because you keep hitting the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign with your car," she teased him.

"That's the great thing about being dead," he joked. "You don't have to worry about tax hikes."

She laughed and snuggled against him. "I'll keep that in mind," she promised. "Now hush, I want to watch the movie."

Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "As you wish."

An hour and a half later, Willow turned off the television, Spike asleep next to her. He hadn't made it past the Pit of Despair. She made a move to get up, pausing when Spike whimpered in his sleep and tightened her hold around her waist.

"...you're my hero...everything...wish I could be..." he mumbled. Willow snickered. He started mumbling again, and she leaned forward, straining to hear. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what he had said.

"I'm not a frog, I'm a princess in scuba gear."

"Like I said," she muttered. "Issues."